Margo, The Chosen One
by MargoSendoa
Summary: Margo is the chosen one, a high school student with too much on her plate. With the help of her friends and watcher, will she be able to face off every evil that comes her way? Will she live through it?


**Title: **Margo, the Chosen One

**Author: MargoSendoa**

**Summary: **Margo is the chosen one, a high school student with too much on her plate. With the help of her friends and watcher, will she be able to face off every evil that comes her way? Will she live through it?

**A/N: **This story is co-written by two sisters, Nik and Jess.

* * *

Margo was patrolling, again. There was rarely a time she wasn't officially "on patrol" when in reality she was giving the occasional glance to the cemetery while she stared mesmerized by the blocks of text in her Chem book. None of it was processing and she was wishfully hoping for the distraction of a vampire when a loud crack tugged her from her thoughts. She looked up fingers crossed for a fight but the crack gave way to a rumble and soon the clouds above her were opening up, spraying the graveyard with rain. A yelp escaped her lips as she collected her belongings and ran for cover. The closest thing was the overhang on the mausoleum, the only thing that would work. Otherwise, she'd have to head towards the safety of her home and that would mean leaving the graveyard. It was only a matter of time before one of the dead got bored and became undead.

It was safe to say she wasn't going to get anywhere with the course-work without the help of her best friend Jamie. But there was something she could do alone here and now, and her opportunity rose as the rain drops volleyed faster and harder towards the ground. She let the Chem book drop and drove herself after her prey, legs sinking into the marsh but keeping astute balance. The figure looked back and realized there was no time to stalk impressively from the hole above his casket; he gave into a pathetic run that told her she'd be on him in no time.

"You can't possibly smell my mom's cooking on me through this rain, why are you running?" Memories of her mother's terrible attempt at dinner as opposed to the usual Chinese takeout washed away along with a few pieces of loose-leaf flying freely from her bag. Right now her lost homework didn't matter, because her instinct had kicked in. She was made for this.

With legs faster than most humans, she found her target fleeing beyond a collection of trees towards the nearby park. "Gotcha, now." Catching up with his long legs, she tackled him to the ground. The pair grappled for a few moments, his fangs elongated in preparation to bite into her throat. With ease, she pressed her cross bracelet to his cheek, imprinting a burn. His attempt to sink into her pale flesh had failed, and he reeled back against the grass. "Shoot, where's my woodie?"

She scrambled loosely in her jacket and in a flash had removed the stake. She brought it down by the vamp's sternum as it rose to meet her; it disappeared in a ceremonious cloud of dust. "Too easy," she complained standing up to brush bits of ash from her jeans. Just when she needed the distraction too the world wasn't offering her much, of course on the night she'd had her sixteenth birthday bash the streets had been overflowing. "Slow night," she complained, giving in to collect her possessions. It didn't make sense to stick around if nothing was going to happen, flipping back open her book she turned her back on the cemetery. She located the fallen papers that had been thrown around in the wind, soaked through to the point where the ink had seeped through the paper. It was illegible. "Knew I should've used pencil," she snarked, throwing the useless bundle of papers to the concrete pathway.

* * *

Margo pushed open the front door to her house carefully, hoping her mother was asleep by now. Her curfew passed an hour ago and she was sure to hear it from her. Instead of her obnoxious snoring or a familiar scolding, there was the sound of giggling coming from the living room just a few feet to her left. Fearing that some evil had broken into her home, she flicked on the light to see her mother jump three yards away from an attractive old man with ruffled hair.

"Margo." She held a hand over her heart. "I thought you were in bed."

"I couldn't sleep," said Margo, thinking fast. The lie however came out jumbled and girlish. Who was this man that her mother looked so comfortable with? "I needed some air..." She looked suspiciously to her mother then the man.

"Oh," her mother said, recovering with minor delay. "Margo, this is Jared. Jared, this is my teenage daughter."

"Your, only daughter," cut in Margo before Jared could answer. "You know what, I'm really tired," she took a side-step out of the door hurrying up the stairs, distracted from both Chem and patrol. Her mother dating was unthinkable, kind of like imagining a vampire offering her a smoke. It made the whole world seem kind of unpredictable, and sick. Very sick. She dropped onto her bed only bothering to kick off her shoes before curling under the blanket, trying to push the image of the two of them from her mind.

Oblivious, to what was happening outside.

In the midst of the storm, a very distinct blue light floated from the ground, seemingly rising from the dirt. It stopped mid-air, only to bounce around and suddenly grow larger and larger. It was wavering, flexing and stretching. Two life-sized shapes filled the void and stepped out. It was a woman and man who didn't seem to mind the rain, the foul weather blowing gusts of air around them and flipping her curls.

"I told you a storm was the perfect cover." He scoffed in response, straightening his tie, eyes wondering to look over the cold environment surrounding them.

"I don't like you," he said blatantly, voice calm and even. "We were assigned to work together and that doesn't make us anything close to personal with one another. We're colleagues."

"What, like I give a damn about you?" She spat in his direction, voice rising to be heard over the blasting thunder. "We better get going."

* * *

Margo hurried down the stairs; her hair is a nearly organized disarray. "I'm going for, 'I'm late and I care about my appearance but am not late because of my appearance'," she explained to her mother as she bounded into the kitchen, popping open cabinets and removing the standard breakfast - cornflakes and milk.

"Margo, can we talk about last night?" Her mom was looking weary, wrapped up in a robe and not quite yet four sips into her coffee. It looked as if she hadn't slept well either.

"What's there to talk about?" Margo vetoed the cereal knowing a granola bar would get her out quickly, scrambling to put dishes away so she could get out before her mother could get to her point.

"I've wanted you to meet Jared for a while now," she started. "It's just every time has been inconvenient and now-."

"Mom I'm really late, can we please pick this up, any other time?"

"Tonight will be fine, seven. No later. He'll bring a pizza."

"Mom I don't know," Margo danced between the linoleum and entryway. She really was late but coming up with a loophole seemed more vital. "I have-."

"No excuse," said her mother. "Seven." She was out the door before anything else could be said to make her day start off any worse than it had.

* * *

By the time she got to school, she was already ten minutes late, courtesy of waking up late and not being able to find clothes until she tore apart her bedroom. The halls were nearly empty as her sneakers pressed against the tile, squeaking from the wet ground outside. She pushed open the door to her first period class in a hurry, nearly slipping on the way in. Thank god for Slayer reflexes.

Immediately, she panicked and thought she was in the wrong classroom. The woman standing there was definitely not Mrs. Bernard. She was younger, attractive. Margo glanced up at the number on the door. 112. The right room.

"You're late." She looked her up and down. "What's your name?" Picking up a clipboard from the desk, she penned her as late instead of absent. "Margo." The name rolled of her tongue slowly. "I'm Ms. Bell. I'll be replacing your other teacher." As she took a seat, she turned to her friend Jamie, the new woman beginning her lesson.

"Where's Mrs. Bernard?" She asked the blonde. Jamie shook her head rapidly, blue eyes wide. Her ponytail followed her movements, shaking against her neck and swinging forward.

"It's the craziest thing. She was found dead at Candor Town Park this morning." Margo's eyes darkened.

"How did she die? Were puncture marks found on her body? Was she drained of her blood? Bit?" Jamie narrowed her eyes.

"What? No. Her throat had been," she lifted her right hand and moved it in a slow motion of her neck, a painful 'Kckkc' sound escaping her lips.

"GIRLS," Ms. Bell warned. "Quiet." Everything was going according to plan. She'd encountered the slayer like she was meant to, now she only had to work with her colleague to destroy her.

The day was already spiraling towards insane. If Ms. Bell was annoyed by Margo for coming in late she was furious when the guidance counselors came in and spent a good chunk of the period talking about the stages of grief, moral support and the power of a lending ear. Mrs. Bernard had been a good enough teacher but she wasn't entirely memorable, at 64 and a big fan of the text no one had known her too personally but Margo was sure most of the student body would be taking advantage of the 'no pass needed' open door of guidance.

"So her throat was slit?" continued Margo as the teacher turned back to the board. Bell poised for such an interruption spoke without looking up.

"Margo, see me after school." It was here the beginning of the plan to destroy the slayer would be engaged. The spell had been powerful, requiring precise temperature, weather and blood loss but the day was finally here. Tonight she and her colleague would drive Margo insane.

* * *

Once fourth period came, Margo snuck away to the school's basement. It was her hideout meant only for her, Eli, and her watcher Charles McGinn. She went there every day during her free period, and occasionally when she cut class. Hiding her little secret from Jamie had been difficult, especially when they had become such close girlfriends. There were so many times where she found herself wanting to confess, to tell her everything; it was just too risky. McGinn had warned her that she could easily call her crazy and tell everyone, worst of all her mother. It would be out of concern for her sanity, but it wouldn't work out. The only genuine way Margo could tell her the truth was if she got to see it for herself. Maybe one day there would be an opportunity.

Once she was sure no one was watching, she slid past the basement door, imprinted with the words "**NO STUDENT ACCESS**" in bold red letters. No one ever went down there other than the occasional janitor, but that was usually not until after school hours.

"McGinn?" She called, stepping down the creaky steps and into the dirty basement. Since they decided to call it their "hideout", they'd moved a few things around. The ripped old couch had been moved beside an arm chair frequented by sleeping janitors after hours, just to make meetings easier. The unused chalkboard placed on the wall now had white chalk conveniently hidden behind it.

"Down here!" He shouted. The sound of a few heavy metal pans falling was heard, along with a scream. Margo all but ran down the remaining steps, just to find him in a heap on the ground.

"What happened?" She chuckled, pulling his arm with one hand until he stood at his full height.

"I didn't see the-" He turned to get a good look at what knocked him over, "whatever that is." She helped him place the metal boxes back on the shelves, turning to face him.

"Where's Eli?"

"Some girl came down here trying to smoke a cigarette. I hid and he kept her occupied until he convinced her to go upstairs with him." His forehead dropped suddenly. "God only knows what they're doing."

"Hopefully something very naughty. He could really use it." She plopped down on the couch. "Did you know he had a premonition that he's gonna fail the math test? How amazing is that?"

"Then maybe he's studying." She snorted.

"Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it."

"There are more important things to discuss anyway, hopefully Eli can remember that," continued McGinn without delay. "This business with Mrs. Bernard should be at the forefront."

"So, it smells fishy to you too?" said Margo trying to keep a knowing ring out of her voice. "What are you thinking? Vamps getting more clever, or maybe some kind of summon-y sort of thing?"

"All I'm thinking right now, is that a 50-something year old school teacher doesn't just get there throat slit out of the blue, not for no reason."

"Not in Candor anyway," agreed Margo. Their conversation was cut short with the telling creak of the basement door, a few frozen moments later Eli appeared smiling obliviously.

"You guys didn't even try to hide this time, you're getting lazy."

"Let's focus," said McGinn gravely.

"Oh, we got something?" said Eli dropping perkily to a spot alongside Margo.

"A whole lot of fish stink, not much more."

"Fish stink?" considered Eli. McGinn had begun to talk over them, rather smartly knowing how they tended to go on.

"I'll check the usual books at the library, try to find out what the motivation might be behind this. Eli, if you have any more ideas concerning anything other than math please send word."

"And I will be?" Margo brought up.

"Patrolling, Mrs. Bernard's throat was slit by the Candor Town Park, we can head over there after school then check the usual places."

"Great- I'm all yours," said Margo standing back up, their absences couldn't go unnoticed much longer. "Until seven that is," she added in sudden remembrance. "Tight leash tonight."

"Couldn't you-," started McGinn.

"What, explain that I'm the chosen one and off to find the thing that killed my history teacher? I have a better chance of talking my way out of my Chem exam."

"Right then, after school-."

"After after school," said Margo dodgily. "Kind of upset the newbie."

"Already? Way to go, Margo!" Eli threw up a hand for an inappropriate high five. Margo offered a shameful face to McGinn before meeting Eli halfway and hurrying for the stairs. The remainder of her day went by somewhat quickly, especially when she remembered that she was being forced to see Ms. Bell after school. She wasn't in the mood to be scolded and had to rush to the meeting in the school basement. Thankfully, Eli had earlier texted her, telling her he'd keep McGinn calm by helping him research until her arrival.

As she headed for the classroom, Margo could only hope Ms. Bell had forgotten and was already on her way home. No such luck. The woman looked up from her desk before she even turned the knob, almost sensing her presence.

"Ms. Bell," she greeted, letting the door close behind her. "I'm sorry about talking in class, it won't happen again. Honest." She brushed a thick piece of black hair behind her ear, green eyes brightening at her new teacher. She wasn't usually a teacher's pet, but the last thing she needed was to get off on the wrong foot with the new History teacher. She was already failing because of Mrs. Bernard's strong dislike for her and this was her chance to get it right.

"You're here. I was beginning to think you weren't showing," the new teacher was attractive to say the least. Her dark brown hair fell in tumbles of curls, framing her white face in a complimentary way. Margo would've gone for her stake if she hadn't already seen her in daylight.

"I had to go to my locker." Ms. Bell took a step forwards, clasping her hands together in front of her blood red blouse.

"Margo, I just want to make sure we're on the same page. I don't want to start off badly with any of my students." Margo's eyebrows shut up, nodding vigorously in agreement.

"Yeah, yeah absolutely! I'm glad we agree." A huge weight lifted off her shoulders.

"Oh, honey," she began in a deep voice. "Your shoe is untied." She glanced down, only being met with a pair of caramel colored flats she'd only recently bought. Jamie had the same pair.

"What?" She looked back up and was face to face with a large blue demon, no, a creature.

"_Nemo memento vindicem_..." She belted, her voice loud and obnoxious. Her eyes flashed a shade of yellow as she repeated the phrase thrice.

"Great, Latin." Margo shook her head in annoyance. "Never ends well." She took a step forward to attack the offending creature, but a flashing bolt struck between the two, sending her back against the door and smashing her head against the glass window. She slid to the floor, vision blurring. It was only a matter of seconds before she lost consciousness.

**TBC**


End file.
